


Perfect Illusion

by AutumnRayne



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: "Who the hell is Cupid" Valentine's Fic Exchange, F/M, Lights from the liquor wall because I like to write about that, Surprises, The piano
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:23:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9778841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnRayne/pseuds/AutumnRayne
Summary: After a long case, Lucifer finds a pleasant surprise in his penthouse.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BurningUpASunJustToSayHello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningUpASunJustToSayHello/gifts).



> This is for BurningUpASunJustToSayHello for the "Who the hell is Cupid" Valentine's Fic Exchange! The prompt? Sexy. Now, let me tell you a story about me and sexy. We're not the best of friends. I mean, Sandra Bullock held more sexy in her little finger at the beginning of Miss Congeniality than I hold head to toe - on a good day! lol Nevertheless, Lucifer and Chloe hold all of the sexy, so I hope this works out! Happy Valentine's Day!!

Lucifer stands quietly, still, in the elevator.  His fingers, hooked in the collar of his jacket, hold it in place as it lays slung over his right shoulder.  His left hand rests in the pocket of his black dress pants, gently fiddling with the quarter and two pennies inside.

Chasing the latest flavor of murderer had been particularly difficult for Lucifer and Chloe.  The first death had been a warning, a sigh of what was to come.  It had been one very small piece of a puzzle for which they had no picture.  The second death had offered a bit more insight, though left them still scratching their heads.  The third death had released an avalanche of information and triggered a near countywide manhunt.  The perpetrator had been steps ahead of them, of course, having carefully planned his entire operation before setting the thin steal of his knife to the first victim’s throat.  They had worked through five grueling days of bloody crime scenes, of hours-long road trips, of emotionally draining interviews; five days of poorly brewed convenience store coffee and no sleep, before finally getting their hands on the killer.

As the local authorities had worked to secure their criminal’s stay at the jail, Lucifer had prepared what he believed a very persuasive speech to convince the detective to spend the night at a hotel, to sleep uninterrupted before hitting the road and returning to Los Angeles.  His work had been all for naught as she had not argued.  She had been fairly wound up though, unable to settle down enough to sleep, still in the exhausted high of their spontaneous adventure.  As they had entered the hotel room, Lucifer had promised she would sleep well.  _Trust me,_ he had said.  She had, and a few rather strong shots of alcohol later, she had found the slumber that eluded her.

Lucifer had bowed out of helping the detective with the paperwork, using his five-day absence from Lux as an excuse to leave.  She had not argued with him on that matter, either, still angry with him over the cartoony devils he had drawn all over the first, and last, set of reports he worked on with her.  His justification of leaving her at the precinct had been short-lived, however, as a quick check-in with the staff had been all Lucifer could offer.  The flashing lights, the loud music, the wave of moving bodies across the dance floor were all more than he cared to handle.

He closes his eyes and lifts his chin slightly as he releases a long sigh.  His shoulders drop, his muscles relax as he attempts to sooth some of the stress but upon inhaling a slow breath, his finds his shoulders wound with just as much tension.  Quiet, he thinks.  All he wants is quiet; wants nothing more than to drop into the satin sheets of his bed and sleep for a week.

Maybe two.

Rolling his shoulders again, he tries to pull together some patience through the elevator’s ascension to the top floor, wondering why this particular trip seems longer than usual.  The elevator finally comes to a halt and the doors open to the solitude of the penthouse.  He steps into the room, his eyebrows lifting, his lips parting in pleasant surprise.  He tosses his jacket over the nearest barstool and slowly moves through the penthouse towards the piano.

“Detective,” he whispers with an appreciative drawl.  She sits on top of the instrument, legs crossed at the knees, leaning back on a locked arm as the other arm rests across her lap.  The darkness of the penthouse and the glow of light from the liquor wall perfectly frame her.  His eyes travel over her clothing, a rather fetching dress from which he cannot pull his attention.  Diamonds line the very thin straps running over her shoulders, as well as the severe plunge of the neckline.  They offer a subtle sparkle, twinkling gently as her upper body moves with slow and steady breaths.  The black, velvet fabric of the dress reflects a greyish-blue sheen as it hugs her curves in all the right ways.  Classy despite the alluring drop that reveals just enough cleavage to draw attention to her pale skin.

His eyes wander farther downward, taking in the full-length skirt.  The fabric parts quite high, just off center of her thigh, revealing a long, incredibly bare length of leg.  She wears black, very high-heeled sandals.  The straps of leather overlap one another across the top of her foot, and run from her ankle to her knee, crossing each other like a garden lattice.  His brow crinkles slightly with the release of an approving hum.

Lucifer’s gaze moves in the opposite direction as he shifts his attention to her face.  Pale pink lipstick covers tempting, parted lips.  Black eyeliner shapes her large eyes, surrounding orbs a shade of blue darker than he has ever seen them.  Her hair, mostly gathered into a messy bun at the back of her head, all but glows.  The blonde locks that lay loose frame her face in soft curls, reaching downwards just enough to tickle her collarbone.  He stops a few steps from her, tipping his head to the side as he smiles.  She tips her head in the opposite direction and lifts an eyebrow as she waits for him to speak.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Lucifer says gently.  Chloe simply shrugs and smiles.  Pulling herself from her lean, she reaches to her side and picks up a bottle of white wine.  She fills one glass for him, one for her and then returns the bottle to the piano.  Holding up a glass, she lifts a finger and beckons him closer.  He obliges and accepts the proffered drink.  She returns to her lean as she slowly sips from her glass, staring at Lucifer with a strong intent.  “So,” he starts carefully, quietly, “are you here for something…in particular?”

“I want to play,” she answers just as quietly.

“I see.”  Chloe takes his glass and places both to her side.  Leaning back on both arms, she lets her gaze slowly wonder down his body before locking her eyes with his once more.

“Do you want to play with me?” she asks innocently.  He nearly comes undone as she bites at the corner of her bottom lip.  Yes, he wants to play.  _Badly_ wants to play.  She sits straight and reaches for him.  Her fingers wrap around the front of his open collar and she uncrosses her legs as she pulls him closer.  He rests his thighs against the edge of the piano as he looks down at her, as she lifts her chin.  “Then play,” she whispers against his lips.  She takes his hand and presses his palm against the outer edge of her bare knee.  His fingers trace a path along the soft skin behind her knee then dip beneath the top leather strap of her footwear.  She moans quietly as his fingers follow the strap around to the front of her knee.

Lucifer wraps his other arm Chloe’s waist and roughly pulls her forward.  He presses against her as he holds her tightly.  His fingers leave the strap of leather to begin a journey over the bend of her knee, along the skin of her thigh.  She shudders as his hand reaches the slit in the fabric.  He smiles against her mouth and pulls away to backtrack the path he has blazed across her skin, to find her knee once more.  His fingers curl around her knee and slowly draw her leg up around his hip.  Her hands move to his shoulders and her fingers clutch the fabric as he moves again towards the slit of the dress.

She gently drops her head backwards and he moves in to brush his lips along the line of her neck.  He removes his arm from her waist, braces his hand on the piano and leans into her.  His push over her body forces her hands to fall from his shoulders, forces her to lean back on her elbows.  His mouth plays over the exposed skin of her neck, follows the inviting line of the dress.  His fingers slide forward along her leg, exploring beneath the fabric of the dress.  His hand moves around the swell of her backside and he smiles as he discovers what hides beneath the dress is nothing more than a thin stretch of lacy fabric that circles her hips.  It covers nothing in back and he imagines in covers little more in front.

“Detective,” he whispers as he slides along her body to find her mouth again.  “Naughty.”  She hums in the affirmative and moves her hands to the buttons of his shirt.  He wraps both arms around her body, one around her waist, the other around her shoulders, and brings both of them to an upright position as she expertly undoes each button.  The tips of her fingers feel hot as she scorches lazy circles against the skin she has uncovered.  He twitches as her fingers near his hips, tickling his skin.  He laughs gently, smiles as he licks his lips and prepares to kiss her.  Her fingers appear between their mouths, lightly running across his bottom lip.

Lucifer closes his eyes and sighs contently at the sensations Chloe is creating against his skin, lightning and fire fill him with every brush of her fingers.  His hand lifts from her shoulders, cradles the back of her head.  His other hand finds her wrist and directs her hand to rest over his shoulder.  He stays still for just a moment, a breath away from her mouth, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks before her moves to cover her mouth with his own.

“Lucifer!”  Fingers snap in his face, startling him from his stray thoughts.  He frowns as the soft sound of Chloe’s breathing is replaced by the busy hustle of the police station, as the darkened atmosphere of his penthouse brightens to the intense fluorescent lights hanging above his head.  “Did you hear anything I said?”  His eyes shift to his right and the detective’s angry face greets him.  Gone is the velvet dress, gone are the curls, the lick of eyeliner.  “Seriously,” she sighs.  “I know paperwork is not your thing, and I appreciate you promising not to doodle little devils all over the report this time, but I didn’t think that promise meant not doing anything at all.”  He frowns and sits forward in the chair.

“Detective,” he starts with a sober tone, “have I ever told you that you ruin all my fun?”

“Multiple times,” she answers.  “Here.”  She reaches towards him and grabs his hand.  “Start writing,” she instructs as she slaps a pen into his open palm.  He sits back in the chair and accepts a file folder with a grumble.  “What the hell were you thinking about anyway?”

“I’m not sure you want to know,” he says flippantly.

“Oh, I do,” she says.  “What could possibly keep you so preoccupied?”  He blinks twice then offers his trademark smile.

“You really want to know?” he teases.

“Yeah.”  He nods slowly and opens the folder.

“All right.  I’ll tell you.  But not yet.”

“What?” she laughs.

“After we are done with this utterly ridiculous nonsense,” he says, gesturing to the papers strewn across her desk, “we’ll go to Lux.”  He meets her eyes pointedly.  “Perhaps share a bottle of wine.”  She raises an incredulous eyebrow.  She knows that look in his eyes, the dark, sexy, come hither stare of his.  The stare from which she usually shies away.  And he sees the change in her expression.

Maybe, just maybe, this time she doesn’t want to.

“Fine,” she agrees with a curt nod.  “But so help me, if I find one horned little creature on that paper…”

“You may punish me appropriately,” he states.  With a shake of her head, Chloe returns her attention to her papers.  Lucifer simply continues to stare at her as the wheels in his head start to turn again.  He looks over the light green blouse she wears, the top button undone, the cuffs open around her wrists.  He surveys her desk and considers that just a small sweep of his arm would rid the desk of, well, everything, leaving the piece of furniture free for more entertaining uses.  He closes the folder and sighs blithely.

Maybe the penthouse isn’t the only forum in which his perfect illusion can occur.


End file.
